Final Destination 4
by One Esperandote
Summary: Kari Davis sees The Ottanta, a magnificent cruise ship, as the summer getaway for her and her friends. But tragedy strikes, lives are lost, and the Ottanta sinks in a fiery blaze. A vision, and soon after the ten survivors must face something far worse..
1. First Signs

**Final Destination 4**

**Ch. 1**

**First Sign  
**

It was the perfect trip.

Kari Davis exhaled, her eyes scanning the sight before her. She stood on the 9th floor of her hotel room, looking down at the sea-side city of Ambrosia, Florida. Before her stretched an array of bright lights, from neon signs flashing names of restaurants and clubs to pale yellow streetlights which bathed every path in a gentle glow as people walked about enjoying the nightlife. And on the other side of town the Atlantic Ocean extended to the horizon, calm and, somehow, mysteriously inviting. Kari smiled, taking in the beautiful sight and feeling a deep sense of tranquility. Behind her the glass door opened, and Kari felt two warm hands clasp her shoulders. The tall, gentle figure of Ryan McGee appeared by her side.

"Hey babe," he whispered, smiling affectionately and hugging her.

"Hey," Kari whispered, eyes loving, "talk to Arlen and Mona?"

"Yeah, they said we'd meet up at eight at the café. In fact…"- Ryan peered down at the city life below, looking carefully- "you can see the Café Santeria from here. See that big blue neon triangle over there?"

Kari followed his finger and saw the sign just a few blocks to the east, farther down the hill.

"Yeah," she whispered, nudging her face against Ryan's, "I see it perfectly."

They kissed with a smile and both laughed, warm with romance.

"Oh, and the Ottanta leaves at nine O' clock sharp tomorrow, so we gotta get up pretty early."

Kari nodded. Their cruise, the one she had been telling her friends about back at Jordan University and waiting months for anxiously, was here at last.

Kari sighed contently. A week of sea, sun, and paradise aboard the Ottanta. A trip like no other.

The next morning was a blur of activity. Kari and Ryan had awoken at 7:14 and hurriedly began to pack their things.

"Baby, where's the room key?" Ryan called into the restroom, where steam was wafting out from under the door.

"Uhh, check under the T.V. guide on the nightstand!"

Kari turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, listening.

"Found it!"

She smiled.

After they had double-checked the room, the couple flicked off the lights and headed out, luggage in tow.

"Man, you guys are late risers," Arlen Maddox said slyly, a wavy, dirty blonde-haired guy with a never-ending sense of humor. He was standing in the hallway next to a smirking, beautifully bright red-head.

"One too many tequilas last night," Ryan said, and all four of them laughed.

"Better hurry," Mona Turner urged, looking at her watch.

"We know," Kari said, trying not to sound terse as she lifted a heavy duffle bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Let's go."

By the time the four friends had checked out and caught a cab, it was already ten minutes after eight. Matters were only made worse when they reached 29th street, which was jammed with traffic in both directions for several blocks.

"Jesus Christ, I hate tourists," Arlen muttered, watching the flow of people who went in and out of stores and cafes or crossed the street in droves.

"Arlen, we are tourists," Mona sighed next to him, "and I bet they all feel the same way about us too."

"Yeah, but most of them aren't going on a world class cruise for the greatest week of sun and shopping," Kari added, and the two girls laughed. Ryan smiled from the front seat as the light turned green. As the cab went forward there was a sudden blare of horns and a screech of tires. A huge delivery truck raced by through the four-way intersection, barely missing the front of the cab.

"Fuck!" Arlen yelled as they were thrown forward by the sudden stop. "Idiot!"

The cab driver swore and honked several times.

"My God, that dumbass!" Mona breathed, her eyes wide.

But Kari's eyes were on the road, looking at something. When the truck had passed something had fallen out of the passenger window. Kari looked closely and realized it was a model ship, now just broken plastic pieces strewn across the road. Her body went cold.


	2. Arrival at Death's Door

**Ch. 2**

**Arrival at Death's Door**

The sun was still peering over the horizon when the taxi turned into the harbor. Kari, Ryan, Mona, and Arlen looked on at the Ottanta, anchored still and magnificently tall. Several brightly dressed tourists flowed up into the entrance deck.

"God, it's beautiful," Kari said as she stepped out of the cab, her eyes wide.

"Yeah, just hope I don't get seasick," Arlen grunted as he hauled their suitcases out of the trunk with Ryan's help.

"So you ready?" He asked Kari, wrapping his arm around her neck. "It's better than flying on the most first class plane or driving the fastest car. As close to paradise as I've ever gotten, and I'm sure as hell ready to go again."

Kari gave a small smile and nodded.

When they had finished unpacking and paid the taxi driver, the four friends made their way through the large crowd of onlookers bidding their families and friends goodbye. As they were walking, Kari glanced up at the body of the Ottanta and just saw a dark shadow cross the hull. It swirled like a sinister cloud briefly before disappearing by the hole where the anchor's rope stretched out of. For some inexplicable reason, Kari felt her body grow cold again with a subtle fear.

Mona jolted her from behind and said, "Kari, you ok?"

Kari shook her head and said, "Yeah…yeah, I'm fine. Just…thought I saw something."

"Not feeling seasick already, are you girl?"

Kari didn't reply.

When they reached the gangplank to the Ottanta, Arlen was cut off by a couple. The two both had dark, dark hair and were photographing the cruise liner as they scurried around for better angles.

"Hey dickwad, watching where you're waving that thing," Arlen snapped, glaring at the man who looked slightly older than him, perhaps in his early 30s, and had nearly smacked him with his camera.

"Sorry," the guy said briefly, taking a couple more shots before glancing at Arlen, his green eyes indifferent, "it's my job."

"Ass," Arlen muttered as the guy walked up the gangplank, and Mona struck his shoulder warningly.

"Pardon my husband," the woman sighed, holding her pitch black hair up as she slung her camera strap, "he _can _be an ass some times when he really gets into photographing something really beautiful. My name's Clara Satterfield. Eddy's my husband. We're on the Ottanta to Cancun too. Nice to meet you all."

Everyone returned the greeting.

Without another word Clara turned and followed Eddy, her short heels thumping all the way up.

"Guess some asses come with a cunt," Arlen joked. Mona and Kari both elbowed him hard in the side.

"Oww! I was kidding!" Arlen exclaimed, darting up the wooden walkway. Ryan grinned at his younger friend, and Mona walked after them with a disgusted look on her face.

Kari looked down at the gangplank before her, wondering if it had just gotten narrower or if it was only her mind playing tricks on her. A man bumped past her, his head lowered over his iPod. He apologized quickly, and Kari saw briefly that he was listening to "I'm Going Down" by Bruce Springsteen. She exhaled softly and, gathering her courage, stepped up and stared walking.

Kari clenched the handle of her suitcase and held on to the railing, feeling unbalanced and very aware of the deep dark water leaping up some fifty feet below her.

Above, Arlen cracked another joke that made Ryan burst out laughing and Mona groan, but Kari hardly heard any of it. She was too afraid.

'Come on!' This is fine, you're fine,' Kari told herself, 'It's a safe ship, you're gonna have a great time. So why does this feel so…wrong?'

More passengers walked passed Kari, and she regained her wits. Feeling better, she strode up onto the ship's deck after her friends. Up ahead just before the entrance to the Ottanta's interior, Kari saw Eddy drop a role of film and curse.

"Careful Eddy!" Clara exclaimed, "Carver will have my ass if you mess up our shots!"

"Tell me something I don't know," Eddy muttered as he stood up, "Carver can kiss my ass when I'm drinking a margarita in paradise."

Clara forgot her anger for a moment and smiled briefly.

They descended down the stairs to the lower levels.

Arlen and Mona had already gone down too, but Ryan was still outside waiting.

"Sorry, just feeling a little out of whack," Kari reassured him as her boyfriend opened his mouth to speak.

"Sure you wanna do this?" Ryan's look of deep concern was wholly comforting.

"Yeah," Kari said firmly, "let's go."

Together they made their way down the carpeted stairway and into a narrow hallway. Across from them a large room opened up, the door labeled "Main Hall". When they entered, Kari gasped.

Before them was a banquet area, with what seemed like hundreds of white tables and chairs. Several formally dressed caterers scurried to and fro, greeting and seating the first arriving passengers. To the right Kari and Ryan saw a grand stage, where a full orchestra was playing beautifully along with a pianist, whose fingers danced across the keys fluidly. To the left they saw three floors of numbered cabins, perpendicular to two glass elevators which traveled to each level from time to time. Kari was breathless.

"Man McGee you fuckin' rock!" Arlen grinned, slapping Ryan's shoulder. "I'm starting to not regret blowing twelve-hundred bucks on this trip."

"Told you it'd be awesome," Ryan said.

The four of them were greeted by a caterer, who welcomed them aboard the Ottanta and seated them at a table close to the stage.

"I love this, Kari!" Mona breathed, looking around excitedly. "The ceiling's so gorgeous too!"

Kari glanced up at the top of the room, nearly a hundred feet high, and admired the six crystal chandeliers hanging down, their lights soft and warm.

When most of the tables had filled with other chattering tourists, the caterers shut the doors and stood around the room diligently. The orchestra had cleared from the stage, and the pianist closed his piano cover gently before bounding onto the stage. He looked in his mid-40s or so, with dark speckled brown eyes, a prominent nose and a rugged grey beard. The man unbuttoned his black jacket and pants, much to the audience's horror. But underneath he had on a white uniform which Kari recognized as that of a captain's.

Everyone realized this as well and began to applaud. Smiling, the man held up one hand until the hall had grown quiet.

"Good morning," the man said, his voice deep and booming, "welcome, welcome to the Ottanta. My name's Gregory Philips and I will be your captain on this voyage. Now, before you go applauding again I want every passenger to know this: our trip to Cancun will never have a dull moment. The Ottanta has three pools, two on the Riviera deck and one on the sun deck, a ShipShape fitness center and spa, eight bars, two game rooms, a library just recently built on the Empress deck, two night clubs, and bingo every evening here in the main hall. We have something for everyone, I hope."

Arlen snickered at the mention of bingo, but quickly straightened his face as he joined everyone in clapping.

Captain Philips thanked the passengers again and waited for silence.

Kari happened to glance to her right where Ryan was sitting and noticed an older teenager with Asian features and baggy clothing seated alone a few tables down, staring at her. He blinked and looked away, his face completely unemotional.

Kari pressed her eyebrows together as she glanced at Captain Philips then back to the guy who had been obviously staring at her. What the hell did he want?

"If any of you haven't realized it yet," Captain Philips said, smiling coyly, "the ship's already set sail. Pretty difficult to notice, isn't it?"

Kari, Ryan, Arlen, and Mona looked at one another and realized that, somewhere below, engines were whirring and humming faintly. There was something different, and they became aware that the ship was really in motion. Their voyage had begun.

* * *

On the sun deck, two husky brown-haired workers were busy with the anchor winch near the stern of the ship. As it rolled the anchor up slowly, one worker looked at the other.

"Charlie, did you hear that?"

"Nuh uh," the taller worker stood up and wiped his grimy hands with a dirty towel. "What should I have heard, Paul?"

The other worker cocked his head, his light blue eyes concentrating as he tried to listen over the crank and rattle of the anchor as it was rolled up.

"Thought I heard something snap, like metal."

Charlie shrugged and peered over the ship's edge.

"Anchor's almost up. Everything looks ok to me."

Paul Rodriguez still wasn't convinced. He scanned the small control panel for the winch, trying to make sure everything was fine. And, according to the gauges, everything was.

"I love this new machinery," Charlie Hitchcock said as Paul closed the control panel hatch and stood up. "It's a real life-saver compared to our last pain in the ass reeler."

"Wouldn't know," Paul said, taking the rag from Charlie to wipe the oil off of his hands, "last ship I worked on wasn't anything compared to this baby. People say she's like the next Titanic."

"Except without the sinking part," Charlie asserted, laughing.

"Yeah," Paul said as they walked away, "hope so."

Below them there was a sudden screech of metal that went unheard. One of the screws for the winch had come loose and fallen right as the anchor cover was closing. The panel caught the bolt and stopped, jammed completely.

And just like that, fate was set in motion.

* * *

"Now don't be alarmed," Captain Philips said to the audience. "The reason I'm not commanding the ship right now is because my daughter has taken the wheel for now. And knowing Teresa like I do, she'll pilot this ship to the best of her ability. She's striving to be a captain like me, probably will be an even better one than her old man."

Laughter murmured throughout the audience, and Kari smiled. Her hand was wrapped around Ryan's underneath the table.

Captain Philips spoke for a couple of minutes more, then bade his passengers goodbye and left. All of the passengers began chattering amongst themselves.

"I gotta take a leak," Arlen sighed, standing up and stretching, "God knows how many restrooms are in this place."

"I gotta go too," Ryan said, smiling at Kari, "make sure Arlen doesn't get lost and die of starvation in a janitor's closet."

Arlen casually flipped the bird at Ryan, who stood up and shook his head, grinning.

Ryan pushed his best friend forward and they headed out of the main hall laughing.

"Dweebs," Mona sighed.

Kari glanced to her right again. That same guy was looking at her again, like he wanted to speak to her.

"Hey, let's go check out the powder rooms," Kari suggested to Mona, getting up.

"Sure, I need to put on some eyeliner anyway," Moan said as she grabbed her purse, "gotta look good for tonight."

Kari agreed. They left the main hall through the east doors, Kari looking back nervously. That table was empty; the guy had left.

* * *

Ryan McGee stared at himself in the mirror, glancing at his brown hair, blue collared shirt, and finally staring into his own dark blue eyes.

'What's wrong with you?' He asked himself mentally, frowning, 'It's just one question, Ryan. You can ask here, you can. You just gotta get a grip…that's all.'

He reached inside his jean pocket, feeling the small soft box.

'That's all…'

"Jesus! These toilets look like they're made out of gold!" Arlen exclaimed from his stall. The toilet flushed. "But they're freezing my ass off too…"

He emerged a second later, Ryan drawing his hand out of his pocket quickly.

"So how are things with you and Mona?" Ryan asked casually as Arlen turned on the faucet and washed his hands. That was a decent attempt to get his mind elsewhere.

"Dude, how many times do I gotta tell you, there's nothing between us." Arlen snatched a paper towel and dried his hands. "Mona's nice and everything but…no, just no."

"Oh," and Ryan wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that Arlen was the youngest of the group, still 20 years old while Mona was 22. Ryan and Kari were both 23.

Arlen turned to look at Ryan, a sly smile on his face.

"What about you and Kari, huh? Seems like things are pretty sweet between the two of you."

"Oh…yeah, they are," Ryan grinned sheepishly. "Still love her a lot."

"Aww," Arlen teased, then became a little more serious and folded his arms. "You thinkin' about popping the question anytime soon?"

"Yeah, actually," Ryan admitted, surprised, "I just…don't feel like now's the right time, y'know?"

"Yeah, I've heard how that feels," Arlen said, smiling in an understanding way, "but honestly man, I think now is the perfect time. She's so happy to be here on this awesome cruise, and even more happy to be with you. Now, I'm not tryin' to pressure you or anything, but I just don't want you to be waiting all your life until an opportunity you think you're waiting for sneaks away behind your back until it's too late. You've made her indefinitely happy man, now let her do the same for you."

Ryan didn't know what to say. Was this the Arlen who had been cracking ass and cunt jokes half an hour ago? Finally, he found the words to speak.

"Thanks, Arlen. That actually made sense. Thanks a lot man."

But before Arlen could say you're welcome, something happened. Above them somewhere, an uneasy groan filled the ship. Ryan and Arlen looked at each other.

"What the hell was tha-," Arlen didn't get a chance to finish. A loud snapping noise echoed from above and the whole ship rattled as the lights flickered ominously…

* * *

On the sundeck of the Ottanta, Paul was the first to notice that something was very wrong. An ear splitting screech filled the still morning air.

"What the fuck?" Charlie stuck his head out of the supply close in the ship's bridge. Down the hallway in the heart of the bridge, Teresa Philips felt the whole ship shake through the helm. She gasped and reached for the radio.

"Charlie," she called, keeping one hand tight on the wheel, "Charlie! What the hell is going on up there?"

"Teresa," it was Paul's voice, "We're in the dark here too. Me and Charlie are gonna get topside and see what the problem is. How're things looking up there?"

Teresa scanned all the gauges before her. Fuel was fine. Electricity flowing. Propellers still maintaining a constant speed.

"Nothing looks wrong up here," Teresa reported, looking up. She looked out at the vast horizon and the ocean before her. The bright morning sunlight on the water was fading; the skies were blooming with dark clouds. A flash of lightning streaked across the heavens.

It was suppose to be clear all day.

"Jesus," Teresa murmured, then another grueling crunch brought her back to her senses.

"Portside! Something's wrong with the anchor!"

Teresa gripped the radio tightly.

One deck above her, Paul and Charlie met up and bounded up the stairs to the sun deck where they had been working earlier.

"Jesus Christ!" Paul yelled over the roar of the wind, grabbing onto the railing.

"It's the winch!" Charlie shouted, pointing towards the starboard of the ship. He was right. Smoke was billowing from the portside of the Ottanta.

The two took off, jumping over chairs and coils of rope as the steel support wires draping down from the rear-covered terrace groaned and swayed uneasily.

Paul was the first to reach the edge, grabbing the railing and looking down over the side. The anchor hatch was still ajar, dark smoke seeping out.

"Shit," he exclaimed, "Charlie turn off the winch!

Hastily, Charlie threw open the control panel door and looked in.

"Fuck, something's jamming it! It won't close!"

Paul leaned over again. The hatch was perhaps ten feet down, a small bolt lodged in it.

"Charlie!" Paul called over the wailing winds, "I need you to get me a long pole! Something's stuck in the hatch but I think I can knock it out!"

Charlie looked down once more at the panel in the floor and nodded. "Ok!"

He jumped to his feet and started running. The pool was just across the dining terrace, and a cleaning net with a long pole would surely be there.

But as Charlie weaved between dining tables a clap of thunder erupted overhead with a blinding flash. One of the poles holding up the awning exploded in a bright eruption of sparks and snapped in two.

Charlie only had time to look back as the steel wire holding up the pole swung down and right through his neck. Blood spattered across the wood.

Paul looked up at the crack of lightning and exhaled as he saw Charlie, his only friend on the whole ship, decapitated by a flying wire. His corpse collapsed as the head rolled away.

"Charlie! Oh fucking God, no!"

Paul tried to stand up, but the control panel exploded in a dazzling burst of sparks. He was thrown back against the railing hard, the wind rushing out of his chest so fast that Paul was paralyzed for several seconds.

From nearby the hand radio buzzed next to Charlie's lifeless body.

"Char…Paul…what's going on?!"

Then the unthinkable happened. The pressure of the anchor hatch became too much, and the fuse box within it exploded. The fire caught onto the anchor rope and burned through it in a matter of seconds. The anchor's weight snapped the weakened rope, and it came crashing through the hatch with another deafening screech. Now, at that moment the Ottanta had been traveling over a large coral reef hidden only about thirty feet below the water's surface. When the huge steel-alloy anchor came crashing into the water with a tremendous splash, it sunk rapidly until it struck the edge of the jagged reef. And as the end of the Ottanta passed on, the anchor had gained just enough momentum from the impact to bounce outward…and right into the ship's propellers.

* * *

Teresa screamed as the ship groaned loudly and rocked to one side so violently that she was thrown to the floor. The helm spun wildly.

"Jesus…oh Jesus, what the hell is going on?"

Teresa got up shakily and looked at the ship's gauges. They were losing speed fast; the propellers had died completely.

"No, no, no….this can't be happening!"

Teresa felt anger boil up inside of her. This was her dad's vessel, his pride and joy. She wouldn't let anything happen to it.

Hastily she stumbled to the control panel, her eyes set on the emergency alarm button. But just as she reached it the boat rocked sharply again, and Teresa flew back.

Her neck hit one of the helm's wooden handles, breaking it immediately. Teresa was killed almost instantly.

Ryan McGee grabbed on to the rim of the sink as the whole boat swayed.

"Holy shit! Shit!" Arlen yelled, "The boat's going down!"

From somewhere nearby some pipes groaned uneasily.

"We gotta find Kari and Mona!" Ryan exclaimed as the lights flickered and dimmed.

Arlen nodded frantically and turned to the door. Before he could grab the handle, a water pipe in the wall behind the stalls burst. The metal snapped and crashed through the wall, sending tile flying everywhere.

"Arlen!" Ryan shouted, throwing himself on the floor as water flooded the room, "Get down!"

But Arlen only stretched his arm out farther, trying to get the door open. The jagged water pipe swung sideways, striking the last stall door so hard that it broke right off its hinges. The stall door flipped and slammed Arlen against the mirror, the glass breaking into a web as blood splattered from his crippled body.

Gasping, Ryan swallowed the urge to throw up. Arlen, his buddy since third grade, was dangling from the sink as just a dead body. No, no…

Ryan stood up with all his might and threw the restroom door open. He looked up and down the hall, so many scared and confused faces around him.

A scream in the distance.

Mona.

Ryan took off running, pushing his way past the flow of panicking passengers trying to get off the Ottanta.

He had to save Mona and Kari, which was all that mattered now.


	3. Vision

**Ch. 3**

**Vision**

The hallway lights dimmed as Ryan burst into the woman's powder room. Kari was in his arms in an instant, sobbing.

Mona was crouched in the corner of the room. She stood up, her face rigid with fear. An older woman's body was leaning against the wall awkwardly, a shard of broken glass jutting out of her chest.

"God…oh God she's dead!" Mona cried.

"Come on!" Ryan grabbed her and Kari as the door swung open.

Together they ran back into the hallway, which was tilted sideways like some amusement park funhouse.

"Where's Arlen? Where is he?" Mona asked in a shaky voice as Ryan led them towards the exit. He looked back and shook his head.

"No, no-oh!" Kari and Mona couldn't hold back their tears, but they pressed on.

Soon the three of them reached the banquet hall. The whole area was now flooding fast, the chairs and tables floating like lost debris. To the right more passengers were running, trudging through the water, struggling up the stairs which led to the cabin floors, trying to get to higher ground.

Ryan, panting, surveyed the situation. The whole ship was toppling down before them towards the exit doors at the opposite end of the room. The double doors they had entered through earlier were blocked by wrecked tables and chairs. And the water level was rising quickly, now up to their ankles.

Suddenly a figure brushed by Kari and Mona.

"You've gotta come with me!" Paul Rodriguez yelled, "I work on this ship. The propellers are destroyed and we've got major flooding in the engine room. We're taking on too much."

"Jesus," Ryan muttered.

"But why?" Kari asked Paul, "What caused the accident?"

Paul shook his head. "We don't know. It's fucking inconceivable….we just don't know." As more passengers rushed past them, Paul said, "On the third floor there's another door leading to the top deck. You guys go; I'm going down to the engine room to help stall the flooding. Go!"

Kari, Ryan, and Mona nodded and waded further into the banquet hall while Paul took off down the hall from which they had just come.

When Paul reached the lowest floor, he came to the engine room hatch and entered. Inside the crew of thirty-nine was scrambling about, some men yelling orders while others clamored with the large generators. Paul leaped into the room, the water rising to his mid-thighs. Above, red lights faded in and out, bathing the large room in a dark crimson glow.

"Turn off the electricity," one burley man yelled from the platform above, his voice hardly audible over the roar of the malfunctioning generators. "Won't do us any good now."

"Paul! The flood's already made its way through all three engine rooms," the leader called down, "we can't stop it!"

Above him, a bundle of electrical wires was dropping.

"We need to get these men out!" Paul yelled, "Now!"

"Everyone evacuate," the crew leader bellowed down below as steam wafted around him.

Just then, the cables above came loose from the ceiling and swung down, catching on the spinning cogs of one of the turbines.

"Shit," was the last word Paul uttered as the cable was cut, sparks shooting out, and hit the water.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ryan, Kari, and Mona pressed on further into the banquet hall, the icy water now almost up to their knees. They reached a sturdy table about twenty feet away from the stairwell and climbed onto it. Jus then there was a terrifying crash and screams from above. Everyone looked up and saw the elevator farthest away from them plummeting down, several scared and hopeless faces inside. Kari couldn't speak, couldn't think as she watched the glass carriage sliding down, down, down, in a bright flash of sparks. At last the elevator smashed into the ground, the people inside vanishing into an explosion of glass and metal and bits of broken flesh flying everywhere.

'God, oh God,' Kari thought, 'all those people…not alive anymore. Jesus…"

Mona started crying uncontrollably, and Ryan looked away and swore softly.

'It's so quiet,' Kari thought, her eyes red with tears, 'the sound of death is so silent…'

"Come on!" Ryan jumped off the table and helped Kari down into the now knee-high water. Mona crawled off after them, her eyes blank with tears and shock.

The three reached the staircase and started climbing. Kari, despite herself, looked back into the murky crimson waters and saw a dismembered torso floating amongst the fake foliage decorations around the elevator shafts. She felt vomit rise up in her throat and turned away, allowing Ryan to guide her up one step at a time.

They had to keep going. No movement, no survival.

When the three reached the second floor two figures scrambled towards them out of the dimly-lit hallway.

"Thank God!" Clara Satterfield gasped, her eyes wide with wild fear, "everyone else went down to the west hallway on the first floor. We have to hurry." Behind her, Eddie Satterfield slumped against the wall, his shirt stained with a small bright red circle.

"It's flooded too badly down there," Ryan said, "but there's another exit on the third floor."

"Jesus," Eddie murmured hoarsely, "so many people are dead already. And my films are probably ruined too."

"Alright," Clara agreed, "but Eddie's hurt. He needs a doctor soon."

"We'll get him help. Now let's go!"

Clara nodded and, with Ryan's help, carried her husband.

The five survivors ascended the stairs slowly, the place deathly quiet except for the slosh of water below. Clara paused to pull her long black hair back into a pony tail, away from her face. Despite her anxiety and despair, Kari couldn't help but marvel at Clara's sleek beauty.

When they reached the semi-circle platform halfway between the second and third floor, Eddie pushed his way out of Ryan's clutch and said slowly, "I got it. Thanks."

Ryan nodded and headed up the rest of the stairs first, Clara following close behind.

Breathing heavily, Eddie looked up and saw the chandeliers overhead, their lights faint as the diamonds swayed with a clinking sound. Half-smiling, Eddie muttered, "Beautiful," and lifted his camera.

"Come on!" Kari urged, trying to grab him. Eddie pushed her away gently and said, "I can't get off this ship without pictures. The public will need to see what it was like here!"

And with that Eddie turned back and raised his camera.

There was a snap of chains as the ship swayed back violently. Eddie stumbled to the ground, pushing Kari back, and looked up just as the chandelier plunged down into him. The glass pierced his face, the weight folding his whole body in as the shards sliced his head to bits.

"Eddie!" Clara shrieked, collapsing on the carpet and sobbing violently. Mona stumbled on the steps up and vomited over the railing. Kari fell back, stunned, her face splattered with the blood of a person.

'Dead people, void of all life, just like that…'

Ryan shook his head and pulled Clara and Mona up. "Let's go!"

Kari scrambled to her feet, looking away from the gory corpse, and stumbled up to her boyfriend. Mona, shaking badly, helped the now widowed Clara down the third floor hallway, away from the sight of cold death.

The four struggled down the hallway, passing the first elevator door, which was partially ripped open at the top.

'Almost there,' Kari thought, holding on tightly to Ryan and staring at the door at the end of the hall.

Just then there was sound from the elevator. As everyone looked around, the first elevator's cables broke with a whip-crack sound. A second later the boat tilted and shook more violently than ever. All the lights went out, submerging the survivors into pitch black darkness. Clara was caught off guard by the tremor and stumbled sideways, her face pressed against the cold metal elevator door.

"Clara! Get back!" Mona cried, leaping forward to grab the young photographer. But in the darkness Mona missed grabbing her, and the elevator carriage slipped off its railing, tilting into the door. Clara screamed as the metal was ripped out before her. She plummeted forward, suspended in mid-air for a split second before crashing onto the roof of the falling elevator.

Ryan and Kari looked back as the emergency lights came on, illuminating the hallway. They saw Mona leap forward as Clara disappeared into the elevator shaft.

"Clara no!"

Some thirty feet below, the glass enclosure for the elevator had broken under the pressure of the flood water. Two cases of wine and a small propane tank drifted in the water and were sucked through the broken glass into the elevator shaft.

The elevator carriage fell freely down, the brakes screeching and throwing sparks everywhere. The floor hit the bottom and collapsed, wine and propane flying up.

There was a bright flame and a terrific explosion as the elevator was blasted into pieces of metal and glass, Clara's body enveloped into smoke.

Mona lurched forward, unable to grab anything.

Without thinking Kari dove forward, catching her friend's hand as she toppled into the elevator shaft. Mona screamed as her body swung over empty space, dangling by Kari's arm some forty feet above the hungry flames.

"Don't let go! Don't let go!"

"Kari!" Ryan started after them, but suddenly someone grabbed him from behind. Before Ryan could try to fight back, a gunshot erupted. Kari looked up, startled, and saw Ryan, his blue eyes open and empty, collapse to the ground. Behind him stood the guy with baggy cloths, the one who'd been staring at Kari early.

He dropped the smoking .45 in his hand and stared forward, his face firm and almost angry.

"No! No! No!" Kari sobbed. Ryan was dead. He'd been the survivor. He was going to make it out. Her life….her love.

"Can you see the future?" The assailant asked calmly as he approached Kari. "It's you, isn't it? Yeah…it's happening again. So much death…"

Kari couldn't stop crying, barely hearing his words.

"Don't cry," the man said, "we can stop this all from happening. I know what it's like to see things. I've seen them too."

"Get the hell away!" Kari choked. Her arm was on fire with pain; she couldn't hold Mona up much longer.

"Fate is in our hands," the Asian said, a smile crossing his face. "Let's start it off!"

He advanced towards Kari rapidly.

Mona had no idea what was going on, but she knew Kari was in trouble. Sweat dripping from her eyebrows, she looked around and noticed a small metal pipe jutting out the adjacent wall only a couple of feet from her.

"Kari!" Mona reached for the pipe, felt it between her finger tips, and clutched it.

Kari watched as the assailant came closer, now only a couple of yards away. Suddenly, she felt something cold tap her shoulder.

The man leaped at Kari, just as she grasped the pipe.

It happened in one smooth motion. Kari thrust the pipe upwards, the metal stabbing right through the assailant's neck cleanly. He gurgled and convulsed as he died, his body landing on top of Kari and breaking her grip. Mona sailed downward, and Kari could only watch as her best friend was swallowed up by the roaring fire below.

Kari couldn't stop herself. The weight of the dead man tipped her forward over the edge of the elevator shaft. She watched as his bloody face grew smaller and smaller as she fell. Then she was looking down, screaming, as the flames of the explosion rose up as if to catch her. Kari felt the heat all over her body and saw only bright red and orange before everything faded to black as she died.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Kari…"

Voices, far off…where…

"Kari!"

There was a sudden blinding light. Kari gasped sharply as if just bursting out of the deepest sea for air. Everyone was around her, Ryan, Mona, Arlen, Clara, and Eddie, all looking concerned.

"What the hell is her problem?" Eddie asked, holding his camera.

Kari was standing on the gangplank of the Ottanta, her luggage in hand. What? No flames…no screaming cries…Kari released her suitcase, letting it roll back and crash against the railing some ways back. Her eyes were wide, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Kari, what's wrong baby?" Ryan asked, his voice almost shaking as he grasped her shoulders.

But Kari couldn't find her voice.

"Bad case of seasickness?" Clara offered as she walked past them.

Then a man with an iPod walked past them, muttering "excuse me," as he bumped into Kari. She looked down and read the song on the screen: "I'm Goin' Down".

"Oh my God," Kari gasped, looking up at her friends. "We can't get on. Don't get on!"

"What?" Mona half laughed nervously, "Kari what the hell is going on?"

"The ship's going to sink!" Kari turned, her eyes frantic, "Nobody gets on! Everyone's gonna die!"


	4. Escape

**Ch. 4**

**Escape**

Kari's head was swirling.

"Go back!" She cried, stumbling down the gangplank and grabbing at bewildered passengers. "Don't get on for God's sake!"

"Kari!" Ryan grabbed her gently and spun her around so they were face to face, "It's ok, it's ok."

Kari exhaled sharply, tears streaming down her face.

Above, Charlie and Paul look down at the ruckus below.

"What the hell is her problem?" Paul murmured, leaning against the railing.

"Dunno," Charlie said, furrowing his eyebrows, "better go and check."

"Look," Eddy Satterfield said, sighing and wrapping his arm around Clara, "I don't know what you're on, chick, but you need to quit fucking scaring these people."

"Kari, what happened?" Mona asked quickly, rubbing her friend's shoulder, "why are you saying this ship's gonna sink?"

"I...I just saw it happen," Kari whispered, her eyes far off as she recalled the flood, the gunshot, the fire consuming her, "It was like a...dream. But then I woke up. Everyone died...you, Arlen, Ryan...oh God."

Arlen shuttered visibly, while Mone covered her mouth.

"It's ok Kari," Ryan said, pulling her closer into a tight embrace, "let's get off. Everyone, let's go."

"Oh you can't be fucking serious," Eddie scoffed, "you can't believe her. I've seen research on seeing the future and all that shit. No good evidence that it's real at all."

"So you think she's faking it?" Clara said doubtfully.

"It is real," a voice said from behind them. Kari looked back and felt her heart jump.

The assailant with the baggy cloths was standing behind them, a duffle bag in his hand.

Kari buried her head into Ryan's chest and gasped, "It's him!"

"Who?" Ryan asked, trying not to sound alarmed.

Kari suddenly pulled away from him and grabbed her boyfriend's hand.

"We have to go," she sobbed, "please, Ryan, let's go. He's gonna kill you!"

"What?" Ryan looked at the Asian man, whose face was wholly blank.

"So it is you," he said, his voice so low that it was barely audible.

In a split second he dropped his luggage and threw a fist straight into Eddie's face. His head snapped back and blood flew from his nose.

"Hey what the hell is wrong with you?!" Clara yelled as she grabbed her husband, who was cursing and clutching his bleeding nose.

Without hesitation Eddie flailed out of his wife's grip and smashed a fist into the Asian's chest, then his cheek. The two fell to the ground, rolling and exchanging blows.

"Hey hey hey!" Charlie Hitchcock bellowed, racing down and trying to pull the two men apart. Paul Rodriguez leaped in too and tried to help break up the fight. The surrounding passengers gasped and froze, watching the men fight as Eddie drove his elbow into the other guy's stomach, causing him to exhale sharply.

"That's enough!" Paul snapped, yanking Eddie away as Clara and the others looked on in horror.

When he had subdued the assailant, Charlie pulled out his radio and said into it, "Teresa, we need security out here on the boarding gangplank now.

A brief burst of static, then, "What the hell happened?"

"We got two men here duking it out and scaring the hell out of the other passengers. And a girl is claiming that the ship is gonna sink...she's really freaked out."

"What in the...I'm calling them right now."

When Teresa had called the police and notified them of the situation, she left the bridge of the ship and made her way outside. Her father joined her out on the deck.

"I heard what happened," Captain Philips said to his daughter, "someone's claiming the ship is going to sink."

"Ridiculous," Teresa shook her head, "we need to get whoever it is off, now."

They walked together down to the gangplank and saw the pandemonium below.

Charlie Hitchcock and Paul Rodriguez were dragging two bruised and battered men down the gangplank.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Eddie yelled at the Asian, fighting against Paul's clutches.

"Get those men off my ship!" Captain Philips ordered, rushing down the gangplank. Teresa followed behind, looking utterly enraged.

"Come on," Ryan called to his friends, holding Kari close to him, "we're not getting on."

"There goes my good money," Alren muttered as he followed Ryan and Kari, Mona behind him.

"Don't be a dick," she snapped.

With some difficulty Charlie and Paul lugged the two men through the still sea of onlooking passengers, all of them watching in silence.

Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed on and off.

"This is beyond absurd," Captain Philips growled, stomping down after them. "Let me see them!"

Paul and Charlie turned around so that Eddie and the man were looking at the Captain.

"You men have no _damn _right to start a fight on this ship," Philips bellowed, jabbing a finger at them, "who the hell are you?"

The Asian fellow smirked and said, "Reiko Lang. Sorry to cause a disturbance on your ship, but I'm working with her." He pointed at Kari.

"You stay the fuck away from her," Ryan said, his voice soft and cold. Kari shuttered and held Ryan. She stared hard at Reiko, determined not to let him see her fear.

"He's dangerous..." She whispered.

"Damn fucking right he is," Eddie snarled, glaring at Reiko.

"Sir, my husband was attacked first," Clara exclaimed quickly, "he had no intent of-"

Just then a gunshot shattered the silence of the crowd. Everyone screamed and people scrambled away as Captain Philip's eyes widened, a bright red circle forming around his stomach where a bullet had pierced him.

Reiko held a small .45 in his hand, the barrel still smoking as Charlie looked down at him in horror.

"Bullseye," Lang said.

Teresa stood opened mouth and screamed as her father collapsed to the ground, wheezing and clutching his side in unimaginable pain.

"Daddy! No-oh, God! Dad!" She fell at his side, her hazel eyes wide and red with tears as held on to her dying father.

"Son of a bitch!" Charlie threw Reiko down and slammed his elbow into the side of Lang's head. He crumpled and fell unconcious with a grunt, his pistol sliding away.

"Jesus Christ, someone get an ambulance!" Ryan yelled, running over to the Captain.

"Daddy...oh Daddy please, hold on!" Teresa sobbed, clutching his hand as if his life depended on it.

"My God," Paul muttered, letting Eddie go slowly. Satterfield collapsed to the ground, still shocked at the act of violence.

The sirens cry was growing closer.

"Honey..." Captain Philips gasped, trying to inhale the air that wouldn't come. "Love you...take care of mom."

"Don't go," Teresa cried, "daddy don't go!"

Captain Philips eyes became round and bright as he exhaled slowly, and didn't breath in again. Terese held on to her father's hand, crying uncontrollably, his vibrant life now only a fading memory.

* * *


	5. Interrogation

**Ch. 4**

**Interrogation**

The four police cruisers drove down the highway amongst the early morning rush hour traffic, as dark purple clouds exploded with lightning in the sky overhead. In the first car, Kari, Ryan, Mona, and Arlen rode in tragic silence, the girl's eyes still red with tears while the guys stared out the window blankly at the darkening sky. In the second cruiser, Charlie Hitchcock, Paul Rodriguez, and Teresa Philips were in a similar state of shock, no one uttering a word as the car raced down the highway. Behind them in the second to last police car, Eddie Satterfield tried to comfort Clara as much as any husband possibly could, holding her in his arms and murmuring softly in response to his wife's tears. Some distance back, the final police cruiser trailed the other two, Rieko Lang slouching in the backseat with his hands cuffed behind his back. Still in a daze, he looked up and said to the cop driving, "This ain't gonna look good on my record."

Behind them, the harbor where the Ottanta was still docked had grown smaller and smaller until it was lost to sight amongst the tall building of the city. Tiny bits of sleet began to fall, sticking against the windshield as Kari exhaled a long, weary breath, her eyes all out of tears.

"We're about a mile from the station," the officer driving said, glancing at his company in the rearview mirror, "I know I've already said this, but I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Ryan murmured from the backseat.

In the next police car, the young rookie officer driving looked in the rearview at Charlie, Paul, and Teresa, who was still in terrible shock after her father's lifeless body had been taken away by the an ambulance back at the harbor.

"You folks ok? I mean…is the temperature fine in here?"

"It's kinda cold," Charlie remarked, and Paul nodded in agreement.

"They say it's supposed to get real cold by noon, down to the mid-twenties. Can you believe that? It might snow in Florida, of all places. I'm sure glad you guys didn't go on that cruise after all, with this unpredictable weather system coming from the north and what-not."

"Can you please shut the fuck up?" Teresa said in a raised, shaky voice.

The officer shut his mouth abruptly, feeling both embarrassed and guilty.

* * *

The Auburndale Police station was surprisingly complex and large. By the time the four police cars holding the survivors pulled up to the front gate, the weather had gotten significantly colder, the atmosphere churning with a frosty storm front. The first cruiser parked at the foot of the station, then the other three as well. 

Kari, Ryan, Mona, and Arlen were led in by their officer, the others trailing behind as a bitingly cold gust ravaged them all.

When she reached the steps leading to the front entrance, Teresa bent over the railing and vomited, actually more of a dry heave which hurt her stomach terribly.

"I got you," Paul held her gently, "just let it out Teresa, it's ok…"

"Can I get you anything?" The young officer asked nervously, but Teresa only shook her head and choked again.

Kari looked back at the girl who wasn't much older than her, feeling utterly sorry and, more deeply, guilty. She had known that that guy, Reiko, had been capable of murder. She should have said something, told everyone that he had been armed. But she had been too distraught over the vision, the sights of death that hadn't been real after all.

Suddenly the front doors of the station flew open, four cops rushing out.

"There's been an explosion," one officer yelled, "They think it's a bombing."

"What!" The officer who had driven the first car stopped, "where?"

"The port harbor. The Ottanta sank just now. We don't have much detail yet, but the explosion blew out the whole port side of the ship. Two of our men are down…and so are several of the passengers they were questioning. It's hell. They're speculating at least a hundred from the ship are dead."

"Jesus Christ," the first officer muttered, staring down at the ground. But everyone else was staring up at Kari, whose eyes were now streaming with fresh tears.

"Oh…ohmygod." She collapsed on the steps, not believing it, not allowing herself to believe the words she had heard.

"No way," a wide-eyed Eddie Satterfield said as Clara covered her mouth and slowly lowered herself until she was sitting on the cold stone step. "Not a chance in hell can that be true. No way."

"She was right," Arlen said, his voice far off as Mona could only look on in disbelief, "Kari was right…"

The leader of the officers who had announced the appalling truth looked back at Kari, his expression a strange combination of curiosity and, less apparent, fear.

"Is she the one…?"

"Leave her," the first cop said, his tone firm as he walked past his comrade, "she doesn't need this now. You need to go."

The older officer looked slightly taken aback at the firm order of his younger, less experienced counterpart. He nodded. "Alright, everyone move it!"

The officers all hustled past the survivors, the police cruisers peeling out of the parking lot moments later as Kari was helped up by Ryan. Slowly, the survivors of the Ottanta accident ascended the steps and entered the police station, all of them feeling as if they had no right to be still treading on this earth alive and well.

* * *

"No police record, no criminal business, nothing," Officer Miller said, leafing through a manila folder as he circled Reiko Lang, who sat in a cold metal chair under an overhanging light with his hands cuffed behind the seat. "Just a typical junior at St. Johns University in Maryland." 

"Yup," Reiko said, sounding almost bored, "majoring in American Literature and psychiatry. Or at least I was."

Miller tossed the folder onto the table and stopped, staring at Reiko.

"And now all of a sudden you felt the need to shoot the captain of a cruise line." Miller leaned in closer until Reiko had to bend his face back just a bit from the unexpected invasion of personal space. "That's a pretty fucked up way to start your vacation, isn't it?"

Behind the two-way mirrors across the room, the first cop and his partner watched in silence.

Reiko laughed, ignoring the cop's typical scare tactic. "Yeah, it is. But I had no choice."

"Really?" Miller whispered, his voice almost a hiss, "why is that?"

Reiko looked up at the officer, staring directly into his eyes, and replied "Because if I hadn't then they would have all died."

"Who?"

Reiko nodded at the mirror, meaning the interrogation room across from him where the other nine survivors were being questioned by another officer.

"Them. Kari Davis, Ryan McGee, Mona Turner, Arlen Maddox, Clara and Eddie Satterfield, Charlie Hitchcock, Paul Rodriguez, and poor Teresa Philips. I kinda didn't want to save her, actually, on account of how she's a heartless bitch and all."

Officer Miller was a hardened cop, forty-three years old and well-seasoned in his grueling line of work that alternated between pushing papers and scrapping automobile accident victims off of highway 83, but in that moment he forget everything that he stood for as an officer of the law and grabbed Reiko by his throat. In one swift moment Miller slid him back, the chair screeching against the floor, and slammed Reiko head first against the wall. Lang's head shook and his eyes rolled back momentarily in shock, as Officer Miller breathed heavily, clutching the murder's throat dangerously tight.

"I knew her father," he hissed, his face an inch away from Reiko's, "we were like family, you sonofabitch. Now tell me, what the hell is it gonna do to a psycho like you if we lock you up for life? Nothing."

Reiko's breath came in wheezing gasps, but he remained silent, staring at Miller.

"Now, it's very likely that you will get the death sentence for this murder. Even if you had no previous record, oh will you ever now. And it's also very likely that I will be there to watch you die slowly and make sure it takes as much time as possible."

Miller let go at last, turning away and staring at the two-way mirror as Reiko inhaled sharply and leaned forward.

"Why'd you do it," Miller's voice was almost inaudible, his face masking the pain he felt over the loss of his friend.

Reiko smiled weakly. "You wouldn't believe me, but I needed to know more about that girl, Kari."

"For what?"

"She's special. Not like the other survivors. The one from Flight180, the pile-up outside of Vancouver, or the rollercoaster. I know it sounds crazy, but I've got to save Kari."

"What the hell from?" Miller asked, knowing what Reiko was referring to. The accidents with one crazed survivor who claimed that they'd seen the whole thing before it actually happened. Was this just like those incidents?

Reiko paused, thinking. Then he replied, "From death."

* * *

"Thank you for your cooperation," Officer Michael Fox said, looking up from his notes at the eight shaken-up passengers of the cruise accident standing around the interrogation room. Only Kari, Ryan, Mona and Arlen were sitting at the small table in the center, and they looked up at the officer as he continued speaking. 

"We got a report from the scene just now, the accident was worse than anyone thought. Paramedics tried to save as many as they could, but…it was hell. I'm just thankful that all of you are safe."

Arlen, who was biting his fingernail at the end of the table, nodded as he stared at the ground and said, "No kidding."

"Have you gotten a hold of our parents yet?" Mona asked as she wiped away one last tear. Teresa remained quiet in the corner of the room, Clara standing next to her placidly. She had a small sketchbook out and was drawing a flower, a hobby she always found comfort in. Sometimes more than her husband.

"Yes, we did reach them, but the weather's too severe, so we've arranged for three rental cars for all of you. We also booked rooms for the night at the Embassy Suits a couple of miles north of here off of the expressway. It's the least we could do."

"Thank you," Ryan and Eddie said.

"Well, we're done here," Officer Fox said as he stood up with his notes in hand, "thank you all again." As he opened the door, the others slowly came back to their senses and shuffled out the door in single file. Charlie paused as he passed Fox.

"Um, sir? I was head of machinery maintenance on the Ottanta. There's something I need to say"

Paul stopped and turned.

"Go ahead," Fox said calmly.

"I…before this morning, a couple of my men had reported that there had been some kind of malfunction with the anchor pulley. I had checked it and found nothing wrong, but…"

"Yes?" Fox listened intently.

"But I had also heard that one of my men dropped a wrench in the gears of the engine and couldn't find it," Charlie said, his voice nearly a whisper so that the others wouldn't hear as they walked out.

"Jesus," Paul said, staring angrily at Charlie, "you didn't report it!"

"Paul, I'm sorry…"

"Don't fucking apologize to me!" Paul spat, "I'm not dead! I'm not dead Charlie! You shoulda investigated or sent me to!"

"I know," Charlie cried, "I just had my hands full with work and I forgot. I'm sorry."

But as Paul opened his mouth to vocalize his rage and disbelief Officer Fox held up a hand.

"Enough. It's alright." He looked at Charlie. "The initial speculation is that a gas leak caused the explosion. That's how it looks. Just a wrench wouldn't have caused that much trouble, I can guarantee you that."

Charlie nodded as Paul looked away, infuriated that his boss, his friend, had been so careless.

"But if it's alright with you, I'll need you to stay and answer a few more questions, Mr. Hitchcock. We'll need a more detailed report."

"Sure," Charlie nodded, "that's fine. It's the least _I _can do."

Without a word Charlie and Paul turned away from each other, the tension still there.

As Paul followed the others down the hall of the basement, he slammed his fist against the brick wall and cursed softly. Behind him, Officer Miller emerged from the second interrogation room with Reiko at his side. As Paul stood there, thinking, Reiko walked past him and said, grinning, "You really shoulda been kinder to your friend. He'll be gone soon."

Paul watched as Reiko was led away, staring after him coldly. Yet, something deep inside Paul shrunk into a ball of consternation at those ominous words.

Back in the last interrogation room, Officer Fox shut the door and turned to Charlie, who was seated at the table looking dejected. "Alright, let's begin."

* * *

**Alright, now we're getting to the action! I just want to thank every reader and reviewer for the support. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and will enjoy the many more gruesome ones to come**


	6. Seething

**Chapter 6**

**Seething**

Kari was standing next to Ryan, holding his hand while he signed a release form, when the pain first hit her. Gasping, Kari closed her eyes as her head was filled with an incredible amount of heat. She let go of Ryan's hand and stumbled back.

"Kari! What's wrong?" Ryan dropped the pen and ran over to her, holding her.

"My head…it hurts, oh God it hurts!" Kari squeezed her eyes shut, feeling as if her whole brain was cooking in a frying pan. Suddenly images flooded her head, a view of the ship; a bunch of tires falling from a high place; Teresa's panicked face amongst a cloud of what looked like dust; a hand pressing against a sheet of glass that was frosted over with cold. Kari couldn't make sense of any of it.

Panicking, the lady behind the reception desk stood up. "Should I call an ambulance?"

"No," Kari gasped, shaking her head as Arlen and Mona approached, looking worried, "I'm ok…it's not hurting that bad anymore." She stood up, Ryan and Arlen helping her up.

"I saw something," Kari said softly as the four of them were walking out of the police station into the now frigid air outside. "It was…a bunch of random images."

"Like what?" Ryan asked.

"Things, like something that would start an accident. I only saw one person…"

Kari looked up, and caught sight of Paul and Teresa leaning against a rental car, both smoking dispassionately.

Arlen and Ryan both followed her gaze.

"Teresa? Or Paul?"

"What about them?" Ryan said.

"I…I don't know. But I think we're all still in danger."

Across the parking lot, Clara pushed Eddie Satterfield's open arms away.

"I can get in myself, honey, thanks." Eddie shut the passenger door after his wife, looking pissed.

"What? What danger?" Mona asked.

"Something," Kari said, "it's something I can feel." She paused, closing her eyes and sighing. "God, I'm tired."

"Let's check in to our hotel," Ryan suggested, "we're all beat. We should rest."

"I'll drive," Arlen agreed.

As they all piled in the car, their bodies worn and weary with sorrow, Kari looked out the window, feeling as if she was being watched closely.

* * *

Charlie Hitchcock awoke slowly, his mind growing more conscious as light filled his eyes. Yawning, Charlie leaned forward and came to realize that he was still in the interrogation room, where shadows drifted around in an attempt to evade the piercing blaze of the single light hanging overhead. The cold touch of the metal table brought Charlie fully awake, and he rubbed his sore neck with a curious expression.

Officer Fox still hadn't returned.

Charlie slid the metal chair back and stood up to stretch, glancing at his weary face in the two-way mirror. How long had he been out?

Charlie opened the door and peered outside. The air of the hallway was cold and still. Where was everybody?

Charlie shivered and stepped out. 'Maybe they're all on the first floor,' he thought, making his way past several closed doors. Ahead the basement windows were dark purple; the weather was still bad.

"Jesus, must have been out of it for awhile" Charlie muttered as he caught sight of a clock on the wall, which read 2:37. He pulled his jacket closer, stopping suddenly upon reaching the stairs.

Looking up, Charlie heard a door close from somewhere above, the sound echoing down the stairwell.

"Officer Fox?" A sudden bang from his right startled Charlie into whirling around. A double door farther down the dim hall had opened, the wind banging it gently against the cement wall. A shadow crossed a pool of light streaming from the open door.

"Hello?" Charlie approached slowly. Above him, the heater started with a low hum. In the air ducts, a gas seeped slowly and deliberately.

Charlie reached the open door and peered inside. He saw a large underground parking garage, two aisles of spaces divided by a cement median. The whole garage was only six parking spaces long from the entrance to the garage doors. There were five police cars parked about; otherwise, the garage was empty.

Hitchcock stepped out cautiously, not able to shake the feeling that some kind of presence was with him.

To his left Charlie noticed an area under construction. The closer wall was simply bare grey cement, apparently the frame of a new partition which would allow for an extension of the parking garage. Into the new wall two steel shelves were screwed into a long metal base, several toolboxes, circular saw blades and two Jaws of Life machines chained down on them. Beyond the dark opening Charlie saw only darkness, then peering closer realize that there was another wall much farther back, a few green lockers standing about randomly. Apparently the area next door had served as a sort of store room for the police department's equipment.

In the corner a large cylindrical water heater preceded the left entrance to the old storage room, humming idly.

As Charlie looked down the shelves, which ran all the way to the back of the garage and ended a foot or so away from the garage door, he heard footsteps from behind.

He whirled around just as the double doors slid shut with a click.

"Shit…hello?" Charlie tried the door handle, but the door had locked. "Anyone? Hey, open the door!" But the cold, quiet basement hallway was deserted.

The door had a keypad below the lock.

Cursing, Charlie scanned the wall along the door. A box with another keypad on it.

"Christ, these people can't get enough security," Charlie grumbled, walking up to the box and tugging on it. No good.

Charlie sighed and looked up at the silvery L-shaped air duct above him, wondering how the hell he was going to get out. Then without warning, his throat tightened.

Charlie tried to breathe in, but no air reached his lungs. Coughing violently, Hitchcock swayed as his visions began to blur.

Above him, carbon monoxide gradually seeped out of the duct, silent and undetectable.

Gasping inhumanely now, Charlie looked around frantically. The air wasn't going anywhere.

'Garage door,' his mind screamed. 'Get it open!'

Charlie threw a fist against the keypad on the box, mashing the buttons until a red light flashed at him. His lungs were burning with so much pain; Charlie knew he'd be dead within seconds.

Panicking, he stumbled blindly forward and touched the metal shelves against the wall, felt something cold and hard. Toolbox.

Not thinking, Charlie yanked the heavy red box out from under the chains, its tools rattling about inside. Turning, Charlie took five steps forward and swung the toolbox down. It struck the key code box with a loud bang, the door shaking. He swung again and again, the sound of the impact growing farther and farther away each time, until suddenly the door hinges snapped. Charlie's vision was growing darker, fading fast, but he saw the door break off, hanging by a twisted hinge. He tossed the toolbox away and yanked on the door until it came off completely, revealing two square white buttons. Using the final ounces of his strength, Charlie jabbed both buttons with his numb fingers.

The garage mechanisms hummed and started, the doors opening gradually. Icy air rushed in the parking garage as snow slid off the doors. The poisonous carbon monoxide rushed out into the open and dissipated quickly.

* * *

"Jesus Travis," Officer Fox said, flipping through the papers on the clipboard one more time. "Kinda on the steep side don't you think?"

"Hey," I did a lot of extra work cleaning out those air ducts," the young worker replied, wiping his brow with a rag before pocketing it. "They were pretty badly obstructed with dust bunnies and other bad shit. But your heating is working smoothly."

"Alright," Fox replied, handing him the clipboard back and nodding, "Mary will pay you at reception. I got a guy who still needs some questioning downstairs. Thanks again for your work."

"Anytime," Travis replied, heading off. As Fox started towards the stairs, Travis called, "Some weather we're having, huh?"

"No kidding," Fox replied before he descended the stairs.

* * *

'I'm gonna live,' Charlie thought to himself as clean air rushed over him, shocking his senses back alive. Still drained, he stumbled forward towards the opening doors to get help. But Charlie's legs buckled as he stepped into a thin pool of ice on the cement. He lost his footing in the blink of an eye and slipped violently over the red toolbox, hitting his head on the trunk of a police cruiser. Stars exploded in his brain as Charlie screamed in pain, clutching his twisted ankle. His eyes watered as he was assaulted by harsh stabbing pain from both his bruised forehead and his sprained ankle.

"Shit, shit! Oh God," Charlie's voice echoed loudly as he cried out.

Suddenly, there was a sudden screech and loud bang. Charlie looked from under the police car and saw that the first garage door had stopped, one of its wheels hanging out of the railing at a crooked angle. The garage mechanism stopped, just as it was programmed to do when a wheel came out of its alignment.

Now Charlie knew he had to move. Something wasn't right here, some kind of perverse feeling of evil and darkness was now clenching Charlie's mind, instilling a heart-pounding sense of paranoia.

Hitchcock crawled to the door of the police car he had hit, reaching up for the door handle. Then, without warning, the garage mechanism started again. As the busted door ascended, the loose wheel jutting out swung slightly from the moment, catching right under the edge of top metal shelf. The garage continued up, pulling harder and harder on the metal shelves until the screws buckled and broke, sliding out in a cloud of cement dust.

Charlie glanced up just as the top-most shelf popped out of the wall. The chains loosened as well, and several of the tools and saw blades rolled off.

With a grunt Hitchcock rolled against the wall, pressing his body as far back as possible as the shelves' contents came crashing down. Cans of oil smashed to the ground, oil splattering everywhere. Heavy wrenches and sharp circular saw blades struck the ground with deafening gunshot-like clamor. Charlie, still huddles against the wall, saw one of the Jaws of Life machines slip off the rising shelf front first, the jaws smashing into the hood of the police car like a pencil through paper. A few more tools spilled off the second shelf now, which had buckled under the weight of the top one collapsing down. The first shelf slid back, striking the metal legs of the support platform on which the water heater rested, the stilts twisting ever so slightly.

At last the ruckus stopped as the unhinged garage door stopped, its left end still hanging down awkwardly. Charlie opened his eyes after a silent moment, breathless. He saw that the bottom shelf had held out, although it was still slanting down towards the water heater in the corner a couple of feet away. Everywhere around him Hitchcock saw tools and saw blades and spilt oil across the ground like a sort of miniature war zone. Broken jagged teeth from the blades, wrenches, screwdrivers, and a drill with its long pointed bit still attached…God, he was lucky.

Charlie slowly slid out from under the shelf, his eyes wide. Suddenly, there was a screech of metal on metal from up above. He looked up just as the bottom shelf came out completely at its end, the last Jaws of Life machine sliding forward. Its pointed pinchers struck the relief valve at the heater's bottom, breaking it off. As the machine clattered deafeningly to the cement, the valve's broken end jabbed smoothly through a pipe running inside the heater. The temperature control of the heater sparked and shot up rapidly to its highest setting. Then, in a split second steaming water was rushing out of the opening.

Charlie gasped and screamed as the 400 degree water spilt out and onto his hands, scalding them red instantly. The water spurted with more pressure, the arc extending out onto Hitchcock's jacket and soaking through immediately. The material disintegrated in seconds as Charlie tried to move, but his blistered hands couldn't drag him away. More boiling water gushed out as he screamed more shrilly and inhumanely. Charlie's flesh boiled and tore into fragments of bloody skin, his chest and stomach now enlarging crimson gashes. As he lost his ability to scream, to breath, Charlie's last conscious thought was of him looking down and seeing his white rib cage exposed horrifically. He gurgled, bloody dripping from his mouth as the hot water scalded his major organs. Then Charlie exhaled one last breath, his eyes wide with death.

The water stopped, heavy steam now wafting about the open parking garage.

A pile of snow atop the broken garage melted and slopped off, plopping onto the ground.

And just like that, Charlie Hitchcock was departed.

* * *

So revised this chapter, since I caught a couple of odd mistakes in my typing. Gosh, reviews would be nice 


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